Weight of Words
by boomboomboommuffins
Summary: Sometimes words can put a weight on your heart, to a point where they convince you of something that isn't true. But there is always someone willing to help bring you back to your feet, even if that person is one of the last ones you'd expect to do so. (To raise awareness of Bullying and its effects.) Jamille Friendship and Hurt/Comfort.


**Author's Note: This fanfiction's purpose is to raise awareness of bullying and the effects it has. Bullying, self-harm and suicide (all of which are mentioned in this ) are no laughing matter AT ALL. I am sorry if some of the medical facts or information about self-harm is inaccurate. I wrote the best I could with what actual knowledge I have on the subject, which is not much. Please, if you or anyone you know is a victim of bullying, I can not ask you enough to stand up for them or yourself. Ask for help. Remember, ****you are worth more than the bullies' cruel words ever could to this world. **** I am always here for whoever needs me. You can get in contact with me through my second twitter account made to offer support ( NotInvisible2Me). I will listen to whatever you have to say and I will care. 3 Thanks for reading this in advance, and for helping to spread awareness of bullying and its effects.**

**I do not own Big Time Rush, any of their songs, or any of the characters from the show. All rights go to their rightful owners. **

**WARNING****: This fanfiction contains subjects and material that might trigger some people. Please, if there is any chance that this might affect you in a negative way, DO NOT read it. I care about you all and do not want to cause anyone harm. Thank you.**

"Hey, we're gonna go down to the pool," Kendall said, as he walked out of his room, carrying a blue towel.

Logan confirmed as he followed the tall blonde to the door, "You guys comin'?"

"Uh huh," Carlos nodded, while keeping his eyes glued to the television screen, tongue resting on his lips as he concentrated. "Let me just-"

Carlos jumped up, tossing the video game controller onto the couch that James was still occupying.

"Yes," he exclaimed, throwing both arms up in the air, "Victory!"

Kendall rolled his eyes and smiled at his friend's enthusiasm.

"Are you coming, or what?" Logan put his hand on the doorknob as he asked the question.

Carlos walked over to the door where his two other friends stood. The other two walked out first, but Carlos turned before leaving.

"Good game buddy! You gonna go with us?" he said looking at James, who still sitting on the couch, smiled back at him.

"You too," his attention turned away at the buzz of his cellphone. As he retrieved it from his pocket, the screen lit up.

A flash of an emotion Carlos didn't recognize spread across James' face, but it was gone almost as soon as it had appeared.

Waving to him, James said, "I'll catch up with you guys later."

Shrugging off what he had seen, Carlos turned to follow Kendall and Logan down the hallway, shutting the door behind him.

* * *

James sat staring at the door, phone in hand. He had been in that position for minutes, since the rest of the boys had left the apartment. It wasn't until his phone buzzed again that he snapped out of his distant daze.

Slowly lifting the phone up to eye level, James read the text.

_You can't hide behind that 'pretty' face of yours forever, James. It's time to face the truth._

A look of worried confusion twinkled in his eyes, and although he knew it was against his better judgment, he clicked the reply button.

As he typed the reply, asking who was texting him, another message popped up on the screen. Hesitating, but closing the message he was in the process of writing, he opened up the new text.

_All of us here in Minnesota know the REAL reason that you are where you are now…_

James couldn't take his eyes away from the text until the next one popped up, followed by another.

_Everyone knows that you are only a part of a band because of Kendall. HE's the talented one. _

_If he hadn't begged Gustavo Rocque to make you famous, you wouldn't be anywhere, today._

By this point, tears of angry confusion were pricking at the corners of his eyes, yet the texts kept on appearing.

_Your friends pitied you. They didn't want to admit to your face that you can't sing…so they're letting you tag along for the ride. I feel bad that they have to deal with you every day…_

James got up from the couch and locked the door. The last thing he needed was for one of his friends to walk in and see him like this.

Reading over the most recent text for a second time, James walked back to the couch, allowing himself to slowly collapse on the floor with his back against the couch.

"How…," he pondered out loud to himself, and then shakily, he began typing out a text in response.

_I don't know WHO you think you are but…-_

At that point, James' phone began to ring, with an unknown number appearing on the screen. Hesitating briefly, he clicked the accept button and steadily brought his phone to his ear.

"This is James Diamond," the boy's hazel eyes began to narrow as he listened to the words of the person on the other end.

"Wow James. You don't respond to my texts but have the nerve to answer the phone? I bet you thought this was some pretty female celebrity calling to book a date in the busy life of the famous _James Diamond_."

The brunette cringed as the voice on the other end spat out his name in disgust.

"Who are you," James repeated his question that he had tried to send earlier.

The tone of disgust was still in the response, "You're one of _those_ celebrities then. Not a surprise at all. I kind of expected it actually."

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't act like you don't know. Although, you never were the sharpest knife in the drawer, were you? That was more Logan's forte. Anyways, you're that type of celebrity who lets fame get to your head. You think you're better than everyone else, and you forget those who knew you 'way back when'."

"I…I," James' voice caught in his throat. He was too stunned to say anything. Not once had he thought he was _that_ stuck-up or full of himself. Maybe he did go a little too far with complementing himself sometimes, but it was all in good nature…he had thought.

"Yeah. That's right. Got no retaliation. You wanna know why? Because you know it's true! As I said before James, you've got no talent. You're just the pretty boy, hiding the fact that you can't sing behind your face! That's all you'll EVER be. The pretty one. You're not good for anything but stealing everyone's spotlight with your looks. If I was one of your so-called 'friends' I'd have kicked you out on the streets as soon as I got to the Palm Woods. They should have. Then they wouldn't have had to drag you around for the ride. Have fun holding your friends back. And keep in mind the fact that they'd be better off if you weren't there."

With that the line went dead.

James' mind was swimming. Not for a moment had he ever doubted that "the face" had played a role in getting him his career. But he'd never once considered it was all he was good for. And another thing: he had always been grateful for Kendall taking him and the others along with him and forming the band. But for the first time since then, a pool of doubts began to flood into his head. Had Kendall only brought him to LA because he felt sorry for him? Because_ he_ had been offered the chance that only comes once in a lifetime, instead of _James_?

"How could I have been so blind!?," James hollered, throwing his phone with force across the room at the wall, just missing the television.

"Maybe-Maybe he's right. I'm a lousy good-for-nothing –just a pretty face. Kendall, Logan, Carlos…They're bound to fail sooner or later, all because of me!"

James let out another frustrated yell, which turned into loud, painful sobs.

"They-They might actually be better off without me…" Without thinking twice, James got up from the floor and made his way to the kitchen space. It had been so long, so long since he had been this upset with himself. So long since he had lost it, lost himself to his thoughts. So long since he had considered self-harming. He had always been a sensitive boy, but couldn't remember the last time he'd let his feelings take control of him. He'd always bottled them up inside, hiding them with a bright smile on the outside. Well not today. He had so much anger at himself just ready to burst out, so many tears, because he knew what the stranger had said…it made sense, as much as he didn't want it to, it just made so much sense.

James opened the drawer under the counter where he knew he would find the dining utensils.

He harshly sat down on the floor after taking one of the knives of medium sharpness. Tears were welling up in James' eyes as he put the knife to his wrist and made the first cut. From there, the cuts began to slice quicker and deeper into his skin, until the blood was flowing quite a bit more than when he had first started.

"James?" There was light knocking at the door. "Are you coming down?"

"Carlos," James inaudibly whispered, his voice being strained from all of the crying and yelling he wasn't aware he had been doing. He felt so spent after letting his anger take over. He wasn't used to feeling this tired and he allowed himself to rest his now-pounding head on the ground.

"James, why didn't you answer your phone earlier?" Carlos repeated, sounding a little bit more worried now that his friend hadn't responded. James could barely make out the jostle of the door handle.

"Dude, why is the door locked!?" Carlos was banging on the door now, and still jostling the handle as if he thought it would magically open if he kept trying.

James shivered at the distress in his younger friend's voice and went to sit up. The sharp pain that ran from his wrists, up his arms, seemed to jump to his head once again at that moment. And with that, his body curled in on itself, on the ground once more. As James fell into unconsciousness, the blood covered knife slipped out of his hand, which opened to allow it its freedom.

* * *

Carlos continued to bang on the door, until his fist was sore. Automatically being overcome with fear for his best friend, he raced down the hallway and back towards the pool.

Out of breath but not losing speed, he made his way to the side of the pool where Kendall and Logan were relaxing on lounge chairs.

"Slow down there buddy! Don't you know there's no running by the pool! You could slip and hurt yourself!" Logan looked at the Latino, amused at the endless supply of energy he always seemed to contain.

"James- he –he might be hurt," Logan and Kendall looked at him with worry, expecting more of an explanation. Realizing they weren't going to get one though, they took the look in the young boy's doe-like eyes as a plea for them to go check on James.

In a rush, the three boys made it back to the apartment.

When Kendall went to open the door, Carlos spoke up, "I checked, it's locked."

A look of panic swept over the tall blonde's face at the words. They never locked the door when they were in the apartment except for at night. Each boy forgot his key so often that it had become a rule to not lock the door during the day, except under special circumstances.

Logan took a spare key out of his pocket, held it up for everyone to see, and then placed it in the lock, easily opening the door.

"James," The three boys' voice echoed throughout the silence of the apartment. The first thing that caught Logan's eye was a small hole in the wall next to the television. He went over to investigate and picked up James' phone which was now sitting with the back off and battery out on the floor. He slid the pieces into his pocket, confused, but figured it was better to find James to explain than try to figure it out on his own.

"What the heck," Logan heard Kendall's voice exclaim from the kitchen. Racing in to stand by Carlos and Kendall, what he saw was not a welcoming sight.

James was curled up on the floor, a knife on the ground by his hand, obviously layered in blood. Carlos stared in horror at his friend, as the one with the intelligence in medical sciences made his way to James, crouching down on the floor to take a better look.

"Call for an ambulance and tell them to hurry," was all Logan had to say.


End file.
